by Atlas, Lilly
“Had you known, you wouldn’t have agreed to come. I fucking know that, V.” Sarge rested back against the torn vinyl of the booth, arms crossed, and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “Why the hell do you think I didn’t tell you where we were going? Cass’ll be fine. You’re woman’s tough as shit. Untwist your panties, brother.”
Once again Viper flicked a glance at the closed entrance to the women’s bathroom. What the fuck was taking her so long?
“She’s fine, Jesus, you’re a goddammed mother hen.” Sarge waved off Viper’s concern. His faded Van Halen T-shirt had seen better days and his once clean-shaven face now sported a thick beard. With each passing day, his criticism of Viper’s monogamous status grew tenfold. If Sarge wasn’t trying to shove some skanky party girl in Viper’s face, he was lecturing him on the virtues of having new pussy each night. “You need to watch it, or you might never get your balls back.”
Fine by him. He had no problem admitting Cassie owned him as much, maybe more than the club did. The club…fuck. Had the prez even sanctioned this little…whatever Sarge had cooked up?
For the past year, he and Sarge had been prospecting with the Handlers club. Even living the shitty life of a prospect for the goddammed second time around, Viper fucking loved club life. Amazing how this MC could be so different than the one he’d come from, yet inspire the same loyalty and brotherhood in him. Probably even a stronger sense since he couldn’t imagine a situation that would cause him to turn his back on his newfound club.
Sarge, on the other hand, had been restless since day one. Whenever possible, he cut corners, skirted work, and bitched about being a prospect. It was a wonder none of the patched brothers had caught on to his shitty attitude, but he’d managed to fly under the radar for nearly twelve months.
There’d been more than one occasion recently, where Viper had nearly walked away rather than covering for Sarge’s lazy ass. The guy didn’t even ask anymore, just assumed Viper would jump in and clean his shit before anyone discovered whatever it’d been he’d forgotten, fucked up, or just plain didn’t give a shit about. But in the end, he’d hustled and busted his ass to get the work of two prospects done.
Why?
Well, if it weren’t for Sarge, Cassie wouldn’t be in his life. Neither would the Handlers. So he sucked up his growing misgivings and remained loyal to his friend. Even as his behavior grew more difficult to justify and his animosity toward Cassie strengthened. Since the day more than eleven months ago when Cassie had stood up to him for throwing her shit all over the motel room, he’d held some sort of ridiculous grudge against her.
As much as Viper loved the Handlers, like most clubs, their prospects lived a shit life, and for the past twelve months, he and Sarge had eaten it yet again. For the second time, patch-in loomed so close he could taste it, and the thought of doing something to fuck that up had his stomach churning.
And being in a bar owned by the most notorious weapons trafficker east of the Mississippi, an hour from home, and an hour from club backup had the potential to blow the fuck up. Also, there was no way in hell they were there to simply have a drink and enjoy the crappy ambiance. Sarge had a fucking plan he hadn’t bothered to clue Viper into.
And Viper had brought Cassie along.
Dammit.
“The fuck are we doin’ here, Sarge? Cutter has been trying to do business with these guys since long before we popped up in town. They haven’t even looked at us twice. Heard it’s because they think our operation is too small-time. And they’d be right.”
“Look, V,” Sarge said, leaning across the booth and dropping his voice. “We do okay, make some decent money moving low-level weapons. But we could do so much more. Could move this club to the next level by working with these guys.”
“Yeah, that’s why Cutter propositioned them. But he always shoots us down. We’d grow by teaming up with them, but what the hell are they gonna gain from us? Their operation is fucking huge,” Viper whispered in a harsh tone across the table. “Not to mention, we’re prospects. We do the shit no one else in the club wants to be bothered with. Why the fuck would Cutter send us here? We here to scrub the toilets or some shit?”
Finally, finally, the door to the women’s room opened and out strolled Cassie, looking like fucking sex on legs.
Sarge whistled. “Your woman’s got some body there, V. Great set of tits, fucking prime ass, and clearly her pussy is choice too since it seems to have you so fucking locked down.”
Viper clenched his teeth, holding in the caustic remarks that would have only started a fight. Possibly a physical one. Sarge had been growing more volatile by the week. Whatever the cause, he refused to open up to Viper, instead acting almost hostile toward him at times.
Especially when it came to Cassie.
Sarcastic remarks about her hold over Viper, lewd, borderline offensive comments about her body, and subtle questions regarding her loyalty had become the norm over the past three months though she’d done nothing to inspire his skepticism. Viper might still feel like he owed Sarge for helping Cassie escape, and he believed in loyalty to his brother, but that only went so far if the loyalty wasn’t returned. To his mind, Sarge ragging on his woman all the time counted as fucking disloyalty. If something didn’t give soon, the two of them would end up trading split lips and black eyes.
At the very least.
“All good, babe?” Viper asked as Cassie slid into the booth next to him. He immediately circled his arm around her shoulders, tugging her flush against him as he shot a warning glare Sarge’s way.
“All good. Somehow I managed to go to the bathroom all by myself.” She rolled her eyes while smiling Sarge’s way. “Is he gonna be all protective over you when you go pee, too?”
Sarge snorted then straightened in his seat as a cute little waitress with long blond curls sidled up to their table. “Hey there, ya’ll,” she said with a hint of a southern accent. “Sorry for the wait. As you can see, Friday nights tend to be a full house. I’m Cindy, and I’ll be your waitress. What can I get you folks?”
“Well, hey there, darlin’,” Sarge said, voice heavy with interest. “Pretty sure I’m looking at what I want.”
Flushing pink from the tips of her ears down to the very generous cleavage on display, Cindy giggled. “Most expensive item on the menu,” she said with a wink, giving them a flash of a purple sparkly eyelid. “How ’bout we start you off with a drink and see what you can still afford at the end of the night.”
Sarge’s nostrils flared and his eyelids dropped to half-mast. “Lucky for you, I’ve come with a full wallet.”
Cindy leaned so far forward, she nearly spilled out of her skimpy V-neck crop top with the bar’s logo on the back. “Well, since you admitted you’ve already come, maybe I’ll just be stuck serving you drinks tonight.”
One of Sarge’s eyebrows arched and the grin on his face couldn’t be described as anything besides smug motherfucker. “We’ll see.”
Viper’s gaze met Cassie’s, who sat there with a disbelieving twist to her mouth. “Is he for real?” she mouthed with a roll of her eyes.
Viper just smiled and tugged her closer, placing a kiss on her temple. The rest of Sarge and Cindy’s banter was lost on him as the smell of his own woman drowned out their surroundings. Christ, he wished they were anywhere but in a seedy bar twenty minutes out of Knoxville in a town where his club had no business hanging out.
Explained the request from Sarge not to wear his cut.
Shoulda seen this coming from a mile away.
“You good?” Cassie whispered, an adorable wrinkle forming across her forehead. He teased her about it often, calling it her Viper-line because it only seemed to appear when she was stressing over him.
For a split-second, he considered lying to her, but it wasn’t their way. Cass handled shit, even bullshit, like a pro and had turned out to be a woman he could confide in. Even club business that he technically should have kept his mouth shut about, he tended to share with
her. Being kept in the loop was important to her, probably came from growing up with a controlling father who ordered rather than asked. And for Viper, her rational manner of puzzling through dilemmas without becoming overly emotional saved his ass more than once. She had an uncanny ability to ground him during times he’d have normally lost his shit. No, he wasn’t an overly aggressive macho asshole, but he was a biker and intermittently had the volatile temper to accompany the title.
Instead of flashing a grin and telling her he was fine, he whispered. “Just stay alert. Sarge has a reason for being here. And he hasn’t shared it with me.”
Her solemn gaze told him she caught the unspoken message. Things might go to shit. Be prepared. After a single nod, she turned back toward Sarge who, now mid-way through his order was staring at Cindy’s tits without shame.
“Whiskey,” he said. “Neat. And keep it coming. Extra tip in it for ya if you serve it to me between those beauties.” His stare made it clear exactly what he was referring to.
“Jesus,” Cassie muttered.
“You got it,” Cindy said with another wink. “Nachos and whiskey. A man after my own heart. But the other part ain’t gonna happen.” She peeked over her shoulder before turning to Sarge. “See that big guy tending bar?” As she spoke, she pointed with the chewed tip of her pen. “Been with that tank a few months now. He’s a you-can-look-but-don’t-touch-my-girl kind of boyfriend. So all I’ll be serving you tonight is drinks and a little flirtin’. Now, what about you two? Whatcha in the mood for?”
“Just a light beer,” Cassie said.
“Oh, come on.” Sarge rolled his eyes. “You can do better than that, princess. What? You worried about having a calorie?”
When Cindy raised an eyebrow, Cassie smiled, sweet as could be though her teeth were grinding for sure. “Light beer, please.” Calories weren’t the problem. Alcohol content was. Normally, Cassie would have been swilling whiskey with them, but she’d taken his warning to heart and wouldn’t hinder herself with a foggy mind.
“Oookay. And for you?” Their waitress faced Viper.
“Same as him.” Drunk wasn’t in the cards for him either, but Sarge would balk for sure if he only ordered a beer.
“All righty. Be back in a flash.” As she turned to walk away, Sarge reached out and patted her ass. She spun fast and waggled her finger. “Behave yourself now.” Then she was on to the next table.
“Damn, that girl wants my dick.”
Cassie laughed so hard she snorted, earning her a middle finger from Sarge. “Oh, come on,” she said around her giggles. “Do you know how many of you she deals with each night? Sorry, buddy, she’s working you for a tip and nothing more. Besides, that man behind the bar is not only huge, he’s hot. She ain’t pining for what you got, Sergeant.” She smirked. “Sorry.”
With a part evil, part leering grin, Sarge leaned across the table. “Wanna bet, princess?”
With a shrug, Cassie said, “Sure. Whadya have in mind?”
Scratching his scruffy cheek, Sarge pursed his lips. “Hmm…okay, how ’bout this? I go home with nothing more than my hand tonight and I’ll cover Viper’s next two runs.”
Oh man, he had Cassie on the hook now. Last week, she’d found a cabin a few hours away for a steal and wanted Viper to take her out of town for a couple of days, but the dates clashed with his next run. Sarge knew it because he’d mentioned it a few days ago.
She played with the paper placemat in front of her, head tilted. “And if I lose?”
Sarge grabbed a scrap of paper and a pencil from a cup for the bar’s weekly trivia nights. He scribbled something on the slip of paper, folded it, then held it up. Not once did the satisfied smirk leave his lips.
The small hairs on the back of Viper’s neck floated up. His brother was up to something. He could fucking feel it creeping across his skin.
“That horny little waitress rides my dick before we leave here tonight, and you give this to the bartender.”
Cassie’s eyes nearly fell from her head. “Before we leave?” she said with a disbelieving laugh. As she reached for the paper, Sarge snatched his hand back.
“Nuh-uh,” he tisked, wagging the paper back and forth. “Not until you win. And yes, before we leave.”
“Sarge…” Viper began. It could be all in good, raunchy fun, but his gut wasn’t convinced.
Cassie’s hand landed on his thigh. She shot him an it’s okay glance then said, “You gotta at least give me a clue what it says. I’m not gonna hand him a note with my phone number or some shit. Not that you’re gonna win…”
Cocking his head, Sarge studied Cassie. Viper’s unease grew by the second.
“It’s a message from Cutter. Not too keen on delivering it myself ’cuz I’m pretty sure he’ll recognize me.”
“Pfft.” Her elbow landed on the table, palm out in Sarge’s direction. “You’re on. There is no way she’s having sex with you before we leave. What? We’ll be here an hour more, tops?” Then she turned toward Viper and gave him a gleeful grin. “Guess we’re getting a weekend away after all.”
Viper nearly groaned. This was not going to end well. Either Sarge would lose and throw an epic hissy fit or he’d win and be a gloating ass at the very least. But at least he now knew their little field trip to this bar was sanctioned by Cutter. Made the knot of unease untwist…somewhat.
Leaning back, Sarge extended his arms across the low backrest of the booth. The man didn’t look like he had a care in the world as his eyes scanned the room. No doubt he couldn’t keep his gaze off their pretty little waitress. Next to him, Cassie was just as confident in their wager, rubbing her hands together like some evil action movie villain.
God, he fucking loved that spitfire. He’d never been one to believe in soulmates, love at first sight, or any other bullshit like that, but how the fuck else did he explain how it went down between them? Hell, they’d known each other for less than twenty-four hours when they’d entered a full-on committed relationship. Moving—fleeing—halfway across the country where they had no connections besides each other and fucking Sarge. No jobs, no place to live, him as a prospect in a new MC…shit that would have strained the strongest of relationships. Yet somehow their baby relationship not only survived its first year of life, it fucking flourished.
Viper didn’t have a single doubt in his mind that he and Cassie would spend the rest of their lives side by side. Laughing, playing, fighting, and most of all loving like crazy.
Just one problem…after twelve months of being together, his stubborn lady had yet to utter those three damn important words.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
1983 - TENNESSEE
Yes! A weekend away with Viper. No club business, no Sarge, no interruptions, and if she had her way…no clothing. They needed this time together, not due to any relationship issue, but because they’d barely had any time to themselves in the past few months. Between her working crazy hours at the reception desk of a local inn and Viper’s erratic schedule with the club, sometimes a week went by before they had a solid half hour to connect. Not to mention Sarge crashing on their couch more often than not kinda put a kink in her recently discovered love of spontaneous sex.
For all of those reasons, she was dying for seventy-two straight hours of Viper and Cassie only time. But there was one vitally important reason she’d been craving uninterrupted alone time with her man. It was time—okay it was long past time—to tell him just how much she loved him. Viper had said those words to her months ago, and it hurt him on some level not to hear it returned from her. Yet…she just hadn’t been able to voice the words even if she felt them. And she’d been feeling them almost since the start of their relationship.
Two factors had kept her from telling Viper she loved him. Fear and distrust.
At first, she’d feared Viper entered into the relationship and stayed with her out of some sort of duty or worse…pity. He’d rescued her from hell and felt responsible for her wellbeing, especially since she’d f
ollowed him to Tennessee like some kind of lost puppy dog. Viper was a good, honorable man who took his responsibilities seriously. She’d spend endless nights worrying he had a misplaced sense of duty toward her. Wouldn’t that be a devastating outcome? Fall madly in love with a man only to find out he saw her as a job, an obligation.
She’d have been crushed.
Once he’d told her he loved her, that fear had been put to rest but distrust in her own feelings had run rampant. Was she with him for the right reasons? Should she try life on her own for a while? In reality, she’d jumped from her father’s house to living with her lover following a traumatic experience.
Not exactly the stuff healthy long-term relationships were made of. Perhaps she’d mistaken love for gratitude and loyalty. It’d taken many months of soul searching, steady love from Viper, and personal growth to learn to trust her instincts, feelings, and her own mind.
Now she understood for certain what she felt for Viper was real, deep, long-lasting love.
And it was time to tell the man. Only since she made him wait so damn long, she wanted to say it at a special time in a special place.
Hence, the desire to take a little trip.
Which would now happen, thanks to Sarge making a bet he could never win.
Yay!
“Why you sitting over there grinning like you’re about to come?” Sarge asked as Cindy placed their drinks in front of them. The man was an ass, though somehow she’d missed it in those early days. He hadn’t been quite so obnoxious toward her or in general at first. The rancid attitude and constant goading of her had developed with time. Most of the time his comments rolled off her back, but lately they’d gone from annoying but primarily teasing to slightly hostile.